


You Can't

by sonicsora



Category: Brütal Legend
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world was born of blood and fire. The death cry of a god made this world, yet Riggnarok barely recognizes it. He lives on the fringes of society, struggling to raise his son and adjust to the modern world. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on a whim rather quickly. I felt the itch and BAM, Riggnarok dealing with modern world shit.

His breath came out in small hot bursts like smoke pouring from Ormagoden’s burning body. Riggnarok could clearly see in his minds eye the great god burning. The bearded man so easily could imagine the beasts cry as he died, his blood rebirthing the world. 

The thought of it, the thought of why the ground was solid and why the air was so sharp in this cold December afternoon was enough to slow the man’s heart rate.

He gave a slow exhale, adjusting his grip on the baby he had in his grasp as he slowly came back down to earth, back to the park bench he was seated upon. To this strange place. This strange place where the air tasted like smoke and exhaust. Where people smelled so strongly of a sickly sweet scents. Where food was plentiful, where demons were no more. It was so different, but still- had faint flickerings of home at the edges. Familiarity was just out of his grasp. 

"I can only hope you don’t pick up that scent, whatever it is." He muttered softly to his son as he watched people walk by. The infant gurgled readily back, quite content where he lay half tucked in his father’s jacket. The Eddie's head lay tucked close against Riggnarok's chest, soaking in the heat and sound of the bearded man's heartbeat. 

Riggnarok unwound his own scarf with his free hand, moving to layer it over the baby for extra warmth. The infant was bundled up well enough, but it didn’t ease the man’s worries. He had cared for Succoria long enough to have some idea of what to do- but it didn’t ease the oddity of a baby, the fragility of what could happen if Eddie grew too cold. 

Riggnarok almost missed fighting. It was simpler when things were divided up so cleanly. He almost missed when Succoria had been the enemy, when his mission was to cut her throat and free humanity. Without a war, without her bloodlust, things became complicated. Complicated enough to make Eddie happen. 

The infant sneezed, making the man startle slightly out of his thoughts. “Don’t you dare get sick.” He warned lowly back, reaching down to tug the small hood further down the baby’s head. “It’s not allowed. You can’t get sick like she did.”


End file.
